


even the holy ghost wants us together

by xether



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xether/pseuds/xether
Summary: wendy finds the local bitch volunteering on christmas day under what looks like a louis vuitton christmas hat, and reality starts spinning like a snow globe in a toddler's hands.
Relationships: Park Sooyoung | Joy/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	even the holy ghost wants us together

wendy can't believe her eyes. she's just signed the volunteer check-in sheet. she volunteers at the same place every year. this once, she picks a different time. and she is there.

no, not she. it. this monster is probably the most ungrateful, bratty, bitchy, sadistic asshole wendy has ever met. yet here it is. volunteering with probably a fake million dollar smile plastered on her fake face.

and of course wendy is stationed next to it. scooping the gravy after it scoops the mashed potatoes out onto these trays. 

she used to have fun volunteering. seeing familiar faces. seeing kids she'd tutor. seeing other volunteers, some grandmas and grandpas who had nothing else to do. but now she's got to look at this bitch for what, four hours minimum? wendy doesn't know if she'll make it.

"hey, over here." joy calls out, beckoning wendy over. she's currently scooping both mashed potatoes and gravy, helping the transition between wendy and the volunteer before her. neat. she's ambidextrous. wendy begrudgingly rushes to tie her apron and put on her gloves before squeezing behind the table to help serve. 

in the middle of serving someone, joy gestures towards her arm. wendy makes eye contact with her, patiently waiting for a hand-off. 

"take it!" joy sneers. she hasn't moved her hand at all. doesn't let go. so what? is wendy just supposed to put her hand over joy's? 

wendy hesitates, but she does it, and joy lets go too slowly. lets her hand be held in wendy's for too long. it leaves a bad taste in wendy's mouth. she's hot. too early for sooyoung to have the nerve to scold her. 

they're silent. serving wordlessly for probably 15 minutes after that initial encounter. it's how they always were. a rocky encounter here and there. no interactions for a while. a moment of thinking this acquaintance-friendship-rivalry-hatred could be redeemed. then the cycle repeats. all three of their closest best friends are mutual best friends. it's just that they don't quite get along.

can't blame them. they just don't mesh. wendy can't stand the brash attitude and the stuck up nature and the flaunting wealth. and joy can't stand how amazing wendy is. 

but in all seriousness, wendy knows she has flaws. she doesn't know which flaws warrant joy constantly being on the attack. that's what wendy told irene. irene tried to help them get along. wendy wanted to get along with joy too. then she gave up after a couple cycles of the same old same old, and it seemed like joy didn't want it too. 

"sorry for getting worked up. it's just that i'm not too great with my left hand. didn't think my spoonfuls were fair." joy apologizes softly. she had just broken their silence by turning to ask the kitchen volunteers for another tray. 

it's weird. wendy has never seen joy apologize. she has. but this one seemed more genuine. the christmas spirit infecting her, perhaps?

"it's okay. you were doing fine. i thought you were ambidextrous." 

joy cracks a smile. it's small, not like her usual stereotypical crescent moon eyed smiles, but it's a smile nonetheless. she shakes her head, scooping a generous glob of mashed potatoes with a quick "you're welcome!" and hurriedly switches out the empty tray.

"you flatter me." 

wendy pops the bubble she feels rising in her gut. it’s a bubble she’s been trying to drown out for years. an air pocket, per se. she’s tried to drown it with acid, tried to burn it, make it combust. she’s tried to suffocate it by telling herself joy is a bitch, writing joy out as this asshole undeserving of her love in the story book that is her life. she takes a crumb of joy’s flaws, her explosive demeanor, and runs with it. she’s shielding her heart from the weapons she equipped onto joy’s character. 

it’s a part of their cycle too. a rocky encounter here and there, where wendy convinces herself that this is all there is to joy, that joy isn’t worth the late nights dreaming of what they could be. no interactions for a while, where wendy lets that wretched idea of joy simmer. a moment of thinking this acquaintance-friendship-rivalry-hatred could be redeemed, when wendy swears she can get through this. she can just pop the bubble. then the cycle repeats.

she’s had this almost crush on joy for ages. probably since they’ve met. she refuses to keep track, refuses to acknowledge it’s there. 

yet here she is, letting the smell of a christmas feast fill her nostrils, probably letting that stupid christmas spirit fill her soul too. letting it take control, going through the cycle again. she’s at that redemption part. 

“i didn’t think i’d ever find you here.” wendy mumbles. there was an attempt not to sound snarky. joy seems to pick up the threads of salt in her voice anyway. she snickers, not a mean snicker though. 

“here every year, baby.” she doesn’t look at wendy. she looks at the trails of the line and back at her tray. looking at wendy’s tray, she turns back to ask for another gravy tray. wendy realizes then she should pay attention to her one job: scoop some gravy. 

“willingly?” nodding, she glances at wendy with a light smirk. she eyes her. makes wendy feel vulnerable. honestly, she isn’t bad. wendy just keeps that facade up. to protect herself. joy can’t be that bad if wendy has this growing crush on her. 

“cute skirt. here,” joy sees a gap in the line and hooks her spoon onto the edge of the tray. wendy does the same with her ladle, stretching out her hands and fingers. suddenly, joy takes her hat off, smooths out her hair, and places the hat onto wendy’s head. she laughs at wendy going still, and fixes it. “suits you better.” she hums. 

this christmas spirit is so warm and tingly. it’s infecting her. hallmark holiday rom-coms have corrupted her spirit. she’s standing here, melting like snow in joy’s hand. feeling every spec of love and care that might be behind joy’s little gesture, she tells herself it’s just the spirit of the holidays. 

at every glimpse of a break, joy lays one hand onto the edge of the table, leaning into it and looking at wendy. she says “you’re the only one i know here!” when wendy asks why, (that lying son of a gun, she seems pretty friendly with everyone in the kitchen). she’ll wink, make faces, even blow kisses. what a flirt. wendy tucks that information away, maybe something else to weaponize against her crush. ‘too flirtatious, probably unloyal?’ written below a list of other characteristics that describe joy. 

the list is long. she’s got a lot going for her. rich, athletic, intelligent, beautiful, charming, decent cook, (nowhere near wendy’s own skill level, but she’s close), apparently upstanding citizen. she’s perfect on paper. but she has flaws. things that make her more than a picture perfect specimen, things that make her human. and wendy has bolded, underlined, italicized, and highlighted those in green. green for disgust. red colored font. red for red flag. just happens to be a christmas themed sheet in her head. a list of naughty and nice. 

flirting isn’t out of the ordinary. joy does it with all their friends. but this is the first time they’ve been stuck together for so long. wendy never thought to note the intensity. it’s different when they’re alone. or maybe it isn’t? maybe it’s that christmas spirit again. bubbling up wendy’s hopes. boiling everything away with its warmth and earnestness. wendy hates it. she has never hated christmas before.

where are they in the cycle now? still redemption? when is joy going to snap again? 

\-----

“you got plans after this?” joy asks, she’s been glancing at the expensive looking watch on her wrist. her volunteer shift is probably ending soon, but wendy’s still got another two hours. she seems antsy to get out.

“nope. gonna head home and have hot cocoa.” wendy answers. there. another flaw she can write up and hold against joy. she doesn’t actually like volunteering. it’s just a chore for her. this is getting too easy. wendy will slash this little crush quick. maybe then the cycle will end. they can finally be the best friends all their friends think they could be, (although wendy does admittedly want more, how can she start with hatred?). 

that’s another story. yeri swears joy and wendy should be like magnets. opposites attract. seulgi just thinks their group of five is meant to be, and irene just smiles with a quick “yeah! exactly, seul,” as she eyes wendy expectantly. it’s like she sees straight through wendy’s screens. every wall wendy has ever built to harbor that crush she has, irene is just tall enough to see over it. and that’s saying a lot because physically, irene is barely a hair taller. she nevers asks. never brings it up. it’s almost scarier that way. irene could use it against her at any moment. irene reads her like an open book. is that how joy feels? 

joy nods, no longer focused on the time. the volunteer coordinator walks past, and joy calls out to her. asking that her time be extended to coincide with “the pretty girl next to her,” she winks. the coordinator looks to wendy with a mischievous smirk, headed to the check-in desk to make that change.

she always does that, makes wendy feel special and hated simultaneously. it’s a skill given how easy it is for her to make wendy feel like that. a couple words. a gesture. a look. and it’s even easier with this christmas bullshit flowing through her veins. clad in red and green, everything she does seems to have a certain tonality to it, a cadence. joy strikes all of the right chords.

silence again. still redemption? 

wendy is scared of this christmas spirit causing something, letting a true redemption occur. except this bubble isn’t popping. it’s rising and expanding and threatening to displace everything in its path. if it does happen, she’s not sure what she’ll do. she quite likes their cycle, even if it’s chaotic and messy and dangerous. it’s normal. and with this odd threat of joy returning some of wendy’s feelings? their cycle coming to an abrupt stop? their relationship being concrete and defined? it sounds like too much change for one christmas day. 

“have you seen my car?” joy empties out her tray, scraping the sides. 

wendy hasn’t. she doesn’t see joy outside of school. at least, she doesn’t try to see joy outside of school. now that she’s thinking about it, wendy isn’t quite sure she can recall the last time she saw joy outside of school. 

“no, don’t think so.” shaking her head, wendy looks at joy for an explanation.

“want to?” joy asks. who knew she was a little bit of a car girl. wendy doesn’t get to answer. someone in the kitchen takes joy’s empty tray with some small talk. joy doesn’t ask again, doesn’t follow up. 

for the record, her answer was sure. should she want to? maybe. does she? not really. but this seems to be an excuse to see each other more. just like joy’s shift extension. wendy won’t say no to that. 

“want to get hot cocoa with me instead?” joy looks expectantly. she does that thing where she leans on her hand and looks at wendy like nothing else is happening, as if the holiday isn’t passing before their eyes. she flips some mashed potatoes mindlessly. some almost falls off the edge, but she doesn’t panic. wendy panics for her, frantically reaching out for the spoon. joy stops her, holding her wrist away gently. nothing too strong.

“why?” she knows she is prying. 

“because!” joy groans, “to spend the holidays with someone. is that a good enough reason?” wendy nods, and joy completely lets go of wendy’s wrist. she smiles, and turns back to her mashed potatoes. she’s so invested.

it’s a new side of joy. more focused, more intent, more caring. it’s not good for wendy’s emotional walls. it’s chemically breaking them down. weakening the framework, but leaving it there. she starts wondering what would be so wrong with liking joy. she’s warming up to this idea of liking joy in the dead cold of winter, and it’s terrible. has to be the work of the holy ghost. no other explanation. 

unless maybe, joy just is this charming. 

then this grave has been dug. wendy is six feet under. imagining all this intention, all this focus on her, wendy is damning herself. eating from joy’s tree of knowledge, falling prey to the parseltongue. 

all this -about joy, about wendy, about them- changing at once, wendy’s head swirls as she tries to comprehend it all. perhaps, she just shouldn’t. she should just let it happen. what good can all this thinking do her? so the gravy takes her focus, grasps at the few straws of self discipline wendy has left in these four hours. and she does a damn good job with that ladle in her hand.

"gravy tray, please." they say simultaneously. it happens like that scene in movies where they reach for the same present on the store shelves. eyes meeting, they both chuckle at themselves. joy lingers, seeming to think of pushing her luck. 

"you have somewhere to be tomorrow morning?" she's planning something. hopefully, nothing sinister. although, the look in her eye seems to say sinister for her.

"not as of now." wendy hesitates. she's walking right into a trap. the trap of spending too much time alone with the person you like. the trap is literally being set in front of her, and she's choosing to step on it, to be swept up by joy and be taken wherever joy pleases. 

"perfect." joy doesn't elaborate. she doesn't tell wendy what she's stepping into. wendy is stepping onto snow that could be five feet deep for all she can see. it's so foolish. but how can she say no?

\-----

“let’s go! pick it up! we have a lot to do.” joy stands in the doorway with her purse and her coat over her shoulders as wendy fumbles around with her jacket. the jacket is inside out and the sleeves are inverted, and joy pressuring wendy to move faster isn’t really helping either. “you’re taking too long. here.” joy lays her coat over wendy’s shoulders and crosses her arms before shoving her side into the door. the wind nearly blows joy’s jacket off, and all wendy does is watch joy walk into the snow with nothing but her fitted mock turtleneck protecting her from the chill.

wendy sits down, the heated seat immediately apparent. joy’s car is a lexus with “p soo” as its license plate. it’s nice, but wendy doesn’t know too much about cars. the steering wheel looks oddly unsafe, like it’s airbag isn’t installed, but it dings when joy pushes it on. that’s neat. 

"adjust the seat. the first three presets are joohyun, seulgi, and yerim." a seat position memory button. with the rest of their friends. so they’re friends now. after four hours of christmas meals, they’re friends. the seat is already close to how wendy wants it, just a bit far back.

“why?” wendy buckles her seatbelt. joy looks at her with this ‘are you serious?’ expression. she scoffs, turning her head with her hands on the wheel. pulling out of the parking spot, joy starts driving. almost like she wants an excuse to focus on something else.

“there’s easier ways to say you never want to see me again.” she’s got this smug smile on her face like she knows how hard wendy is about to refute that. her eyes don’t tilt up like she’s happy, like when she usually smiles. it isn’t smug, actually. it’s hurt. she’s so hurt by wendy not wanting to see her again that her cold, ice-faced, happy facade is slipping away a little bit. she quickly replaces it. that focus is back. the little scrunch of her eyebrows and the bow of her lip. wendy is over.

“i do want to see you again. i just don’t like that i do.” wendy supposes that joy deserves that honesty for christmas. she deserves that honesty in general. after today, wendy has realized that joy deserves a lot more than wendy has ever given her. letting herself have a crush on joy hasn’t been all that bad. it’s been quite nice, actually.

“why’s that?” joy pulls the inside of a wheel into a right hand turn. she’s listening. 

“you’re always mean to me. remember how you reacted when i first got here?” wendy watches joy ponder for a moment. she’s a bit cornered. wendy likes the idea of them interacting like that. as equals, cornering each other with playful teasing. that replacing joy’s previously consistent attacks. 

“well, why are you coming if you hate the idea so much?” they’ve parked. joy doesn’t ask for her jacket back as she gets out. the light of the twenty-four hour café glows a warm yellow-orange in the white of winter. she gives wendy time to think. walks around her car, and opens the door with her other arm crossed over her chest. shivering, she still doesn’t gesture for wendy to give the jacket pack. wendy tries. joy pushes it back into her hands, shaking her head. 

how chivalrous. joy is like that. when they’re with their friends, she’s like that with seulgi. it seems like a jab at irene, (wendy will never admit that it gets her riled up as well). wendy can’t figure out why. not like joy likes girls, wendy assumes. she’s had a couple boyfriends in wendy’s time knowing her. 

there was this one girl. before joy’s last boyfriend. she’d kiss that girl on the cheek on instagram, (those posts are gone? maybe archived with a several others). they’d share stupid little story posts of them with filters on as they lay in bed together, (god, how wendy wanted that to be her). they’d hold hands at lunch, (wendy people watches, not just joy watches). but that could’ve been anything, (even though irene talked about joy not feeling good for a while after those instagram posts disappeared, something about a break up). wendy cuts off the rest of her thoughts, the ones where she’s hopeful and expectant.

“i didn’t say i hated it,” wendy steps out of the car, her jacket sitting on the dashboard. “and it wouldn’t be in the christmas spirit for me to reject you.” 

joy whispers ‘christmas spirit’ through a chuckle. she starts ahead of wendy, opening the door and glancing upwards. there is mistletoe, but she doesn’t comment. holding the door open with her foot, she starts to pull her phone out. 

wendy would be dubious too. her excuse isn’t exactly believable. is it obvious? that joy is breaking her way into wendy’s heart again? she’s taking a path she has worn in time and time again. it must be. she’s got no one to hide behind. not yeri, nor seulgi, nor yeri. it only took four hours for joy to break into it, break into a rhythm with wendy. like they’d been close for years. 

as she orders, joy jumps in at the end to say they’re ordering together. she lazily throws her arm over wendy’s shoulder. the action startles the cashier and wendy, but wendy lets it happen. joy looks up at the menu for a second, confidently ordering warmed banana nut bread, a cookie, and a white hot cocoa. the cashier asks if that’s all, and joy tacks on a cake pop.

“double my part of the order please.” she hands the cashier her card, despite wendy trying to object and pay for it all herself. joy drops a twenty into the tip jar. 

they wait together. joy drops her arm to tap at her phone. wendy makes a face. call her a luddite, she’s not a fan of the recent spike in people on their phones. yeri nags her for it, but she would like to have conversations with people. not preoccupied androids. 

joy notices. she even ducks a little to catch a glimpse of wendy’s face. then she stands up straight. crossing her arms again, looking over wendy to see around the café. it’s late, some older people are clacking away on laptops. others tending to their drinks. sighing, joy leans against the window sill. wendy keeps her eyes trained on the pick up counter, joy just barely in her peripheral.

“you could’ve just told me to put it away. no need to get all sulky on me.” one of joy’s hands comes up to brush through wendy’s hair. once. she pulls her fingers apart, catching on a little tangle. it makes wendy feel warm. starts a little fire in the pit of her stomach that goes out quick. wendy almost wishes she didn’t make the face. joy’s attention wouldn’t be trained on her, and her cheeks wouldn’t glow redder than rudolph’s nose.

“didn’t want to interrupt. could’ve been important, miss heiress.” that’s half of the truth. wendy applauds herself for that excuse. wendy tries to recuperate her list. the naughtys and nices of park sooyoung. there’s an attempt to set that heiress trait as a negative. the volunteering is good pr. but wendy can’t bring herself to see joy as a bitch anymore.

“i’m with you right now. you’re more important.” and that settles it. wendy is never going to see joy as the asshole in her head anymore. not when she spews lines like that and throws her clothes onto wendy and tips so generously. that’s all so bare minimum, but this christmas spirit has done too much.

“sooyoung!” the barista calls. joy beats wendy to the counter, handing wendy her hot cocoa. sitting down, joy slides all her seconds to wendy.

“just in case you want it later. if you don’t, i can eat it.” joy bites into her banana nut bread and makes this unholy face when it touches her tongue. she groans like she didn’t eat back at the food hall they were volunteering in. “and before you ask, it’s not just the christmas spirit. i’m nice.” 

wendy stirs the sugar and milk embellishments into her hot cocoa. joy watches, and somehow they get onto the topic of school. there’s this animated part of the conversation where wendy swears joy could have an entire conversation with just her hands and facial expressions. joy is explaining this philosophy class so well, wendy swears she was there, sitting in that discussion on gender and sexuality. then ex slips out her mouth, and wendy has to stop her when the she/her pronouns start to follow. 

“not to be nosey, but who’s your ex?” devouring the cake pop whole, wendy doesn’t even realize she’s already finished half the food joy gave her. 

“cheng xiao.” joy answer plainly. her story continues. wendy is only half listening. that’s the girl that was in those instagram posts that have disappeared. and the snapchat stories never to be seen again. and joy was holding her hand because they were dating. the story ends with cheng xiao and joy both owning some sexist teenage boy in the discussion.

joy does like girls. and she has this knack for making girls- making wendy feel gooey inside. wendy can only hope she'll make it through what seems like an impromptu date.

"are you done? i want to take you to the tree." the tree. the massive building sized christmas tree the city makes out of lights. it hosts couples every year. it's downtown, about 45 minutes, more with traffic, in the direction they just came from. only about 5 minutes from the homeless shelter they were volunteering at.

"that's-"

"downtown. do you have a curfew? it'll take a few hours." joy interrupts her. wendy was going to tease, tell joy it was romantic of her to want to take wendy to the tree. there's this pleading look in joy's eyes, and she looks vulnerable. instead of teasing, wendy shakes her head. cleaning up their trash, she follows till joy holds her back. she mumbles "stay" before going out without her jacket again. a quick scrape across the windshield and windows takes off the loose layer of snow that has fallen while they ate. joy’s got this anxious air to her, but it doesn’t show. wendy’s only got a hunch. a nagging feeling that joy might confess to her at the tree.

then joy pops back into the door. she grabs wendy's hand without a word and tugs her out. 

in the dead of the suburban night surrounding them, wendy has a realization. this day is going to end. and they'll have had their redemption arc. where do they go after this? after all this blatantly romantic tension?

\-----

the drive to the tree takes an hour and fifteen minutes. 10:30 hosts a never ending line of cars travelling home for the holidays. joy's santa hat begins to slip off as wendy begins to doze off, but joy quickly rescues the hat. she makes a joke about wendy getting too comfortable, how she could be mean to her at any coming moment. it's enough to pull a smile.

wendy gets to watch joy through droopy eyes. she sees joy’s jawline and how it flexes when some idiot is on the road. there’s a certain way she checks the mirrors when they’ve been stopped for a little too long for her liking. occasionally, joy will look at wendy and seem like she suddenly remembers why she’s driving. she’ll take one hand off the wheel and put it behind wendy’s headrest. all this for her. “you’re more important” plays over and over in wendy’s head. as does the moment joy put the hat on her head. and the moment joy extended her volunteer shift of scooping mashed potatoes to spend time with wendy afterwards. 

when they arrive, joy politely asks for her jacket back. she waits for wendy this time. not demanding that she hurry. she waits.

wendy isn’t too sure standing in front of this tree is supposed to make her feel something. it doesn’t feel different. she has the freedom to focus on the fact that her heart is going haywire or to focus on the lack of other people to focus on. just sooyoung. 

“i really liked spending time with you.” joy isn’t looking at her this time. they’re watching the colors and the patterns on the light tree cycle through. they still haven’t seen one full cycle and it’s been some 10 minutes. 

“me too.” wendy mumbles. her hands are shoved in her pockets, but she can see joy closing and opening her fists by her sides. does she want to hold hands? is that appropriate with how many hours they’ve been nice to each other? been not at each other's necks? wendy takes the hand closest to joy out of her pocket. she leaves it at her side, and joy just barely reaches for it. she doesn’t quite grasp it like she had in the coffee shop. a light brush of the fingers, that’s all. like she’s not confident for once. her pinky and ring finger hook onto wendy’s. it throws wendy off that joy hasn’t just intertwined their fingers. peering at joy’s side profile, she asks, “is this a date?” 

“do you want it to be?” joy gives wendy a moment. then she panics. she adds, “if not, we can just write it off as the christmas spirit. ‘s okay with me.” it doesn’t seem okay. she’s got that hurt smile again. like she’s trying to play off something that means a lot to her. 

“i want it to be a date.” wendy’s answer causes joy to look away from the tree, just barely missing the last sequence of their first full cycle of the light transitions. she scans for a laugh, a withheld giggle, anything that could indicate wendy is joking. then she suddenly straightens up. grasps wendy’s hand completely in hers. 

“good answer.” they continue standing in the cold, relishing their recent milestone. the lights shut off at midnight, and joy figures she should take wendy home. 

joy hasn’t let go by the time they’re at the parking garage elevator. she huffs when it takes more than a minute to come down and fetch them. the swirls of her breath make the red of her lipstick that much more obvious. her rich people luxury lipstick has lasted through snow, food, and drink. they’re quiet. wendy’s dozing off as they stand in hand and hand till joy kisses her on the cheek. she starts up. looking around for an explanation, and some romantic has hung up a dying branch of mistletoe above the elevator doors.

“was that okay?” wendy squeezes joy’s hand in affirmation, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. a lazy smile graces her lips before she tiptoes to kiss joy. it’s joy’s time to freeze. she blinks a couple times, and wendy lays her head on joy’s shoulder as the doors slide open. joy walks them to her car, and wendy is hit with one last realization for the night.

hallmark movies aren’t all that unbelievable. she’s fallen in love in less than 24 hours. beat that.

**Author's Note:**

> felt the christmas spirit. so they felt it too :)


End file.
